Take Me Aside
by Kuro49
Summary: ShikiIzaya. If the gun at his belt was chocolate then the money on the table must be fake. Love was in the air but hate and death was equally intoxicating.


ShikiIza targets my love like Shizu-chan targets Izaya-kun. Yes, another ShikiIza fic from me, I don't own. :D

XXX

**Take Me Aside**

XXX

_Take Me Aside, Leave Me for Dead_

000

They knew the easiest way to silence a person.

They would take him aside where there would be no one else but the predator and the prey. He would get on his knees willingly (if not, there was always the gun tucked inside those slacks) because a certain level of trust had already been established. It could be a gunshot to the head with a muffler at the end or better yet, it could get messy.

Cold black metal against human heat. And then red would paint a nasty splatter against the walls.

Shiki leaned back into the leather chair of an office that was all too empty. He dialled up a call at a young man that liked to waltz along the sides of the laws, pulling at the strings and tangled messes of connections he had spun in the last few years.

The call connected and silence buzzed along the line.

Shiki spoke up.

"I need people."

"…Doesn't Awakusu-kai have a lot of those to spare?" The informant on the other end of that phone call had a sly voice that drawled out each syllable with a slow curl of his tongue. It was a taunt craving for some attention but Shiki never gave in once. "I need new men."

"So anyone with a past will do?"

"Yes."

This request was not the first of it's kind. They both had a history of dealing in businesses like these.

"Women and children?"

His intentions were malicious because he liked tearing apart healing scars.

"Orihara-kun."

And his voice was cutting. It was a warning, like a knife pressed in on healed flesh.

"They are people too you know." Izaya gave a light laugh and a shrug of his shoulders that the other couldn't see. He made it seemed as though knowing women and children with a scarred up past was nothing new and they too should get equal rights in making quick cash drenched in lukewarm blood.

"How much for this time?"

Orihara Izaya named his price and it was never cheap.

"You'll have it Friday morning at the latest. Likewise, I want my men by then."

"Of course, Shiki-san. When am I to disappoint you?"

There was confidence in his words because he had pride and a stern fascination with the morbid side of things to hold up.

But once.

Yes, just once, Shiki would like to be the silencer with the gun spreading those taunting lips apart. He would be on his knees as he pulled the safety back. There may not be tears but there would be blood.

Pull the trigger and the bullet would leave the muzzle. Spreading an unknown pain as that metallic candy exploded on his slick tongue. It would most definitely be a mess but there were always hired men to clean it up. Shiki would then pull out, wipe the handle of the gun clean before placing it into the still warm palm of that daring informant.

Yes, he was waiting for a single slip up. A reason to break that pride and an excuse to find fear in those ruby eyes.

"Thank you for your business again."

And then they both disconnected on each end of their telephone call.

000

_Take Me Aside, Love Me Alone_

000

They both knew the easiest path to avoid trouble.

Just step away, step aside and let it pass. But they just loved to stare trouble in the eye and dare it some more. No, of course not, they never knew when to quit until they were flat on their backs with blood trailing away from their bodies.

Izaya crossed the street with his feet skipping across the bands of black and yellow, pavement and paint. He held his sleek black phone up against his ear and waited for the call to connect.

It was a Thursday night in Shinjuku.

"Good evening, Shiki-san."

There were cars passing by, rushing a cool draft across the back of his neck. He stood at the corner of the street and leaned back against the railings. Metal pressed into his back as he waited for an answer from the man with the gun at his belt. The young yakuza executive with the clean white suit and a shred of humanity that Izaya almost envied.

"Orihara-kun."

His voice was even and stern, like he wanted to scold a child that wasn't his. And hearing it made Izaya dissolve into the coy brat that he had sworn to stay true to. His lips curled and then he asked, "how do you like your men?"

For a conversation starter, he thought it was original.

"…You have them?"

"I like them older, it gives me a sense of security and… comfort, unless the sex was horrible." His hints were hardly settled. This was not the first time Shiki-san had ignored the things he had spewed out but likewise, Izaya would just continue with his antics until the other responded.

"…You have my men?"

Stress was placed on each word and like poisonous seeds, aggravation was planted in each syllable.

Izaya smiled distractedly as he gazed at the JR station and the southern exit in front of him.

"I wouldn't dare to call you if I didn't."

"How many?"

"Five." He held out a hand, spread his fingers apart like a makeshift fan and the silver rings glistened just before he waved at the small crowd of young girls standing by the automatic doors. "When do you want me to bring them in to drop a hello to their new boss?"

"Tomorrow morning."

"And when do I get my payment?"

"In less than 30 minutes. You're at the Shinjuku Station, aren't you?"

Whether any of them liked or not, Shiki-san was still a yakuza.

And like always, they had their own ways. (Yet, neither of them needed to plant a GPS in the other's cell. Could it be instincts?)

Izaya couldn't help but smile, all lips and no teeth.

"Then I take it you aren't at your office, Shiki-san."

There were no surprise or a pause in the conversation. They just kept at it without missing a beat.

"The hotel at the corner of the same street. Give them my name, they'll give you the key."

"I'll even be early, just for you, Shiki-san. See you in 29."

It was late but it seemed like the entire world was still breathing loudly into his ear, cooing an urgent tune and licking a lingering trail along his jaw just so he would stay for a moment longer. But when the one beckoning him back home was Shiki-san, Izaya was never one to dwell alone on these cold Shinjuku streets because he needed some loving too.

He ran a hand along the railings in a deep set distraction, the cool metal soothed and shocked as he pushed himself off.

Strolling into the station, he passed the group of girls without another glance and caught a late train to Ikebukuro.

Yes, there was always an easier way but he would never let himself live it down if he did.

000

_Take Me Aside & Fill Me with Your Love and Hate_

000

They knew the easiest way to get out alive.

All it took was a conscience and a sense of justice that would hold out until the end. Then again, if they had any of these good things on the list, they would have never ended up here, where guns were chocolate and lies were truths. For an expensive buck or two, they wouldn't have cared if their buyer were the devil.

He slipped the card through the lock and watched the red turn green with barely another flash.

"I thought you'd be here in 29, Orihara-kun."

Izaya walked into the room.

"I had a little run-in with a blonde brute."

Shiki was standing at the windows with his back to the door.

"Then I guess, 32 is not bad if only you could see that split lip."

Izaya lifted a finger to his lips, felt the stickiness of fresh blood as the pain settled in after the rush of an adrenaline kick.

"I guess Shizu-chan really did it this time." He smiled faintly with red smeared across his fingertips. The ruby was almost, just almost, enough to compete with his eyes.

There was no reply but the glass window was a reflection of everything before it was the view of Ikebukuro's nightlife.

"So," he licked his lips, tasted tangy blood and then anticipation as he ran his eyes along the walls, "where's my money?"

Izaya liked the silent treatment he was receiving. He was scaling the room until he found a cheque lying against the table.

It was half the amount he requested.

"Shiki-san."

Izaya walked towards the windows and stared over his shoulders just so he could hold his gaze a second longer. His hands pressed against his back, a clean intimacy they were both unfamiliar with.

As burgundy red met dark eyes in the glass, it was hardly the romantic side of him at work when his masochism was in overdrive. Shiki could tell that Izaya was loving the cold shoulder just as much and he harshly shrugged him off.

"Like always, you'll get the rest when I see my end of the deal."

"Mmm… they're just like goods." Izaya murmured underneath his breath but with their proximity, it was more like a cunning whisper in the ear. "I just hope the five of them can take care of your trouble."

It wasn't the switchblade that he was palming in his coat pocket, it was the smile on Izaya's face that told him everything.

Shiki scoffed because he didn't need eyes to see. The floor to ceiling window was a reflection of them and their worst intentions. With Ikebukuro as the judge and the hotel room as their backdrop, neither of them tried to hide a thing.

Shiki reached inside his white suit jacket, fingers wrapping around metal.

Izaya was liking it all a little too much. He took one step back and his hand let go of the switchblade in his pocket.

It wasn't a forfeit. It was more like over-confidence in his own ability to stay alive through thick and thin.

They faced each other as Shiki turned around with his hand still resting against metal.

Like the smirk among the smiles he pulled, there was hate amongst the love that filled the room up like a poisonous gas.

And it was never hard to guess what came next.

"Let me help you with that, Shiki-san."

All too willingly, Izaya got on his knees.

XXX Kuro

If I remembered properly, they referred to a few missing guns as 'chocolate' in either/both anime and light novel. Don't ask me what Shiki wants with all these men but dealing in men sounds too good to pass up.–crazy laugh-


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